Chapter 8: Forty-Seven Missed Calls
The research station's administrative office was twelve time zones away, but the coordinator, a methodical woman named Dr.
Yuen, had the log pulled and emailed within three hours of Daniel's request.
He opened it at Cal's kitchen table.
Forty-seven outgoing calls to the family home over a six-month period.
Forty-seven calls with no answer, no callback, no explanation.
He forwarded the log to Patricia without a word.
She called him back in twenty minutes.
"This is significant," she said.
"Combined with the communication records from your video call platform, we can demonstrate a pattern of deliberate interference with your contact.
That directly contradicts the claim of voluntary absence."
"Can we use it at the emergency hearing?"
"I'm going to try.
The judge may not admit it on short notice, but I want it on record." A pause.
"The independent psychologist can see Thomas tomorrow morning.
Her name is Dr.
Anita Marsh.
She's based here, no connection to Carver County, no prior relationship with any party.
I've used her in three previous proceedings."
"Does Thomas need to know what it's for?"
"Tell him she's someone who talks to children about their feelings.
That's true and it's enough." Another pause.
"Daniel.
How is he?"
Daniel looked across the kitchen.
Thomas was on the floor with a deck of cards, building something — a low, careful structure, each card placed with complete concentration.
"He's better than yesterday," Daniel said.
"He talked at breakfast.
He asked when he was going to see his mother."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him soon.
That we were sorting some things out."
"Good answer." Patricia's voice was careful.
"He's going to be asked about both of you.
By Dr.
Marsh, and possibly by the judge.
Whatever he says, it needs to come from him.
Don't coach him."
"I know."
"I mean it, Daniel.
Not even gently."
"I know, Patricia.
I won't."
After the call, he sat at the table for a while.
Thomas finished his card structure — something low and wide, more like a raft than a tower — and looked up.
"Dad."
"Yeah?"
"When you were away.
I used to call your name before I went to sleep." Thomas looked back at his cards.
"Not out loud.
Just in my head."
Daniel didn't move.
"Did it help?" he asked.
Thomas considered this seriously.
"Sometimes," he said.
"Not always."
"I'm sorry I was gone so long, bud."
"I know." Thomas carefully removed one card from the structure and placed it on top.
"Marcus used to say you weren't coming back."
The kitchen was completely silent.
"He said that to you?" Daniel asked.
His voice was even.
He made it even.
"A lot of times." Thomas didn't look up.
"He said you found a new family over there and you didn't need us anymore."
"That's not true."
"I know.
You came back." Thomas placed another card.
"But it was hard to remember that when he kept saying it."
Daniel looked at his son's careful hands on the cards.
The small, precise movements of a child who had learned to be very careful.
"Thomas," he said.
"I need to ask you something, and I need you to just tell me the truth, okay?
Whatever the truth is."
Thomas looked up.
"Were you ever scared?
At home.
While I was gone."
A pause.
Long for a seven-year-old.
"Sometimes," Thomas said.
"When Marcus was angry."
"Did he ever hurt you?"
Thomas shook his head.
"He didn't touch me.
He just got very loud." He looked back at his cards.
"And then Mum would cry and go to her room and I'd have to be very quiet."
Daniel breathed in slowly through his nose.
"You did really well," he said.
"Being quiet like that.
That was smart."
Thomas nodded, accepting this.
"Am I going to have to go back?" he asked.
"Not tonight," Daniel said.
"Not tomorrow.
We're working on the rest."
Thomas nodded again.
He placed the final card on his structure and sat back to look at it.
"It fell down every time before," he said.
"But this time I went slower."
The emergency hearing was in two days.
Patricia had the call log, the deed, the letter, and now — if Dr.
Marsh agreed it was appropriate — the account of a seven-year-old boy who had spent six months being told his father wasn't coming back.
Marcus Hale had built something careful and deliberate over fourteen months.
May you like
But he had made one mistake.
He had underestimated how much a child remembers.
